


The Dearing Girls

by corinnemaree



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gilmore Girls Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:38:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7512082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinnemaree/pseuds/corinnemaree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire and Carrie Dearing are the most charming and fast talking girls in Brooke’s Comet. With the issues of the Dearing’s family life and their romantic lives, things are always an adventure with the Dearing Girls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where The Colours Don't Go

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so, as you all know, I can’t stick to one fic at a time. I’ve been watching a lot of Gilmore Girls lately, and basically, I’m a mess. This is a fic based on the show. Now, here’s the thing, AND IT’S VERY IMPORTANT SO PAY ATTENTION HERE, I am STILL working on all my other fics, but I must ask, do you want this to be a full blown fic or just a one shot? i have planning for more, but if you like, i can just leave it here. So please, feedback is very very important for this fic. Anyway, I hope this is good and I hope you like it. xx

It was colder than it usually was, the whole town of Brooke’s Comet rugged up in oversized jumpers with beanies and gloves. Claire walked down the street, waving to Vivian who had rushed across the road to the warmth of Simon’s Grocery store and waved back to Claire as she rushed inside. Lucy and Nadin were pinned up at the door of Lucy’s dance studio, shouting hellos to Claire as she found her way up the steps of the old hardware shop turned diner.

He was rushing around, backwards baseball cap with the pale blue flannel on and an irritated look that had most people intimidated. Claire was scared for another reason. She took off her jacket and her beanie before as she hastily picked up the upside down clean up. Walking to the counter, she smiled brightly to the man who rolled his eyes at Claire, who held the mug out to Owen Grady. 

“Please, Owen, please please please!” she smiled, biting her lip as she waited for the stone faced man to reply. 

“How many cups have you had this morning?” he said cold and unmoving, looking up from the coffee pot back to Claire. 

“None,” she grinned wide. Owen remained still.

“Plus…” he raised a brow and Claire huffed.

“Five, but yours is better!” she said, extending out her mug to him, trying to seem even more grateful for his work.

“You have a problem,” Owen sighed, taking the mug and pouring the coffee into it. 

“Yes, I do,” she basking in her justified win. 

“Junkie,” he responding, handing back the mug and Claire took a sip of the pure majesty of the Owen’s coffee that she craved every morning. 

“Angel,” she replied. “You’ve got wings, baby.” Owen rolled his eyes, going to another customer and Claire went back to her table. She sat down, sipping at her hot coffee and waiting for a little while longer. Then, through the door, a little redheaded teenage girl walked to Claire’s table. She huffed, shrugging off her backpack before settling down across from Claire. 

“My, god, it’s freezing out there!” she remarked, shivering as she sat down, cuddling herself closely. 

“What do you need? Coffee?” Claire asked. 

“Lip gloss,” she smiled. Claire cheered slightly before going through her bag and handing it to the girl. 

“I’ve got every flavour you could think of, from strawberry to marshmallow,” Claire told her and the girl’s brow furrowed. 

“How about something that I can’t eat,” she asked grumpily. Claire huffed before taking the bag away and handing the little redhead a flavourless lip gloss. 

“You’re not fun today,” Claire chimed and the girl shrugged. 

“And you’re too fun today,” she remarked, smiling back to Claire.

“You need caffeine, kiddo,” Claire 

“Can you order me a cup?” she huffed and Claire threw her hand up, waving Owen frantically. He rolled his eyes as he walked over.

“Only because you’re being no fun,” Claire winked. Owen picked up the mug, both Claire and Carrie looking at Owen with wide eyes and eagerness. They both smiled like the brilliant women they were. 

“You know, it’s scary how similar you are,” Owen said, scowling just a little as he watched the two girls. 

“Like mother like daughter,” Claire said, reaching over the table and holding her daughter’s chin. Carrie smiled brightly before turning back to Owen with batting eyelashes. Claire turned and did the same. 

“You are frightening and you give her too much coffee,” Owen finally giving back the mug to Carrie and shaking his head. 

“My baby’s gotta thrive, Owen! Now, pour the coffee and keep those judgemental eyes away from me,” Claire shrugged before Owen smirked and left the table. Claire turned her attention back to her daughter, the one thing that kept her sane for years. 

Claire was sixteen when Carrie wasn’t even a thought. Nathaniel Hayden was the love of Claire’s life, and so naturally, when things were hectic in Claire’s life, her getaway was Nate. He was perfect in her eyes, so amazing and funny, everything she could dream of. Then, Claire found out she was pregnant. Her parents were overbearing and nearly disowned Claire on the spot. They kept her out of the sight from others and when Claire finally went into labour, it was like something clicked in her brain. She called the ambulance, she left a note and she was at the hospital. 

It was as if the first sight of Carrie, Claire knew everything about the little thing, who she was, who she could be. She was perfect, with the same blue eyes and little upturned nose that Claire had. Carrie was the most precious and gorgeous thing that Claire could ever dream of. Claire was alone when Carrie arrived. Well, not alone, there were doctors and nurses, but the moment it was happening, she had no one she knew. She was alone and held Carrie first. Not Nate or her demanding mother and father. Claire held Carrie in her arms, tears streaming down her face and she knew exactly what Carrie’s name was. Carrie was perfect from the moment she arrived. 

Then, after a day or two at the hospital, Claire picked up Carrie, called Karen to tell her where they were going and left. She didn’t tell her parents, she didn’t speak to them at all. She avoided them as much as she could. She found a tiny little town, out of sight from her parents and just enough space to feel like home. The inn she found, The Independence Inn, was beautiful and took Claire and Carrie in after leaving home. Claire started out as a maid and lived in the shed, which the owner helped renovate for the pair. They were happy there for six years. 

Yet, Claire wanted to be in a place all to themselves, something she could afford and let her daughter thrive in. That’s when they found paradise; a house in Brooke’s Comet that was the shortest walk to the main square of the town. Plus, it was the shortest distance to Owen’s. God, that diner was everything to Claire and Carrie when the little one was growing up. Owen hated having kids in the diner, saying they were sticky and made too much noise, but discovered the best qualities about Carrie and treated her like his own. The amount of ‘on the house’ meals the kid got made Claire more jealous than she wanted to be. 

“So, school?” Claire asked, sipping at her coffee and Carrie looked down at her watch. She went wide eyed and eventually took large gulps of her coffee. 

“Yeah, Lola is meeting me at town square,” she said through a strained voice and finished her coffee, setting down the mug and picking up her backpack. 

“Okay, but tell her to stop borrowing my Van Halen shirts for school, you know I can’t live without them,” 

“The message will be passed along,” Carrie muttered walking towards the door. Claire tutted, stopping Carrie at the door. Claire tapped her cheek and Carrie rolled her eyes.

“Kiss Mommy,” Claire smiled and Carrie huffed. She moved over the table, kissing Claire on the cheek and smiling with the gorgeous smile she had ever since she was a baby. 

“Bye,” Carrie called out.

“Bye-bye!” Claire rang back. She turned her attention to the diner owner, and Owen groaned.

“You are not getting another cup,” he said forcefully and Claire pouted. She paid for their coffees, leaving the bills underneath the napkin dispenser, just where Owen always liked them to be. Pulling her jacket back on, Claire walked to the counter, leaning into it with a smirk on her lips.

“You’re so rude. Aren’t restaurant owners supposed to be nice?” she asked, crinkling her brow. Owen tilted his head, hands leaning into the opposite side of the bench, challenging Claire right back.

“Not this one,” he almost smiled at that one and Claire shook her head. 

“See you tomorrow,” she beamed back before heading home. 

 

*~*~*

 

Work was her next stop, now dressed in her business skirt and blazer, she was walking around the Independence Inn that she was now the manager of. It felt right to work there, taking over from the old owner and running it the way she had it before; it was important for Claire and Carrie for the inn to remind them of home, because that was what it was. Claire and Vivian worked the front desk for most of the morning before Claire heard a loud clang of dishes crash in the kitchen. 

“Zara!” Claire called out, racing them in a moment to see her best friend sitting on the floor with dishes, pots and pans sitting alongside her as her ankle seemed to be in pain. It was ridiculous how many times this happened to Zara, but god was she an amazing cook.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” she said in her heavy British accent. Claire immediately went to pick Zara up as another kitchen hand helped Claire. 

“Why weren’t you watching her? You know you have to watch her!” she barked and the kitchen hand shrugged. She sighed, knowing full well Zara could hurt herself standing completely still, she was that accident prone. 

“I’m fine!” Zara laughed.

“I need you to be more careful,” Claire sighed. Zara bit her lip as she went to the stove and grabbed the pot’s handle, the wooden spoon stirring what was inside.

“I know, but I fixed the peach sauce,” 

“Wha -” Claire started before the spoon was urged into her mouth. Claire’s eyes went wide and she tasted the mixture with love. “Oh my god! I think I’m in love with this sauce, I want to marry this sauce,” Claire chimed and Zara giggled. “I want to serve this sauce when we open our own inn one day,” Claire smiled and Zara cheered.

“I know! I do too!” 

Claire sighed before putting the pot down for Zara. “But the key for our dream to come true is for you to still be alive,” she warned her friend and Zara nodded along. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll make sure there are fewer accidents.” Claire squeaked before kissing her friend’s temple. 

“Ah! I love you,” she laughed before heading back to the reception. She stopped, grabbing a kitchen hand before she left. “I have a feeling she’s going to set something on fire, so watch her,” she warned and the kitchen hand nodded.

Claire and Carrie had their usual night, their odd meals that only Rachel’s Pancake World could offer. They managed to get some good chinese food and watched all their favourite movies with the cute actors that always had Carrie getting bashful and Claire’s teasing getting it’s best work out. 

When Carrie went to bed, there was a moment where Claire felt like things were going to change, not for the best nor for the worst; just that change was around the corner. Carrie slept happily in her bed, tucking in and cozy. Claire had her heart growing light, a small sigh of content and it was off to sleep. She lay awake for a while longer, the lingering feeling of change echoing and nagging all at once. Claire just hoped, for Carrier’s sake, it worked out in the end. 

At the inn the next day, Claire couldn’t believe the news she was bringing her best friend, bag in hand and letter at the ready. “Zara! Zara! Zara!” Claire squeaked, rushing into the kitchen. Zara immediately threw herself away from the stove, hands raised in the air as a defence. Claire laughed at the sight. 

“What? Is the Inn on fire? Did I cause it?” Zara asked frantically and Claire shook her head.

“No! I have news,” she bit her lip, handing Zara the letter to Zara. “Carrie got accepted into Chilton!” 

“What?” Zara blinked before looking at the letter alongside Claire.

“Look. ‘We’re pleased to inform you that Claire Leigh Dearing has been accepted to Chilton High School. Due to her excellent academic record and mother’s eagerness’ - I said I’d sleep with the dean to get her in - ‘Carrie is able to start as early as Monday.’ She got in! She did it, Zara!” Claire said before Zara embraced her in the tightest grip. Claire felt like crying, a proud moment in her life that she couldn’t quite express. 

“What happened?” Carrie’s voice rang. Zara and Claire separated, looking to Carrie as she placed her backpack down and out of the way of each cook rushing around. 

“I’m happy,” Claire announced. Carrie’s brow furrowed.

“Did you do something slutty?” 

“I’m not that happy,” Claire beamed, handing over the bag to Carrie. 

Opening it, Carrie pulled out the pleated blue kilt that would be her school uniform. “What is this?” 

“It’s your skirt for Chilton!” Zara blurted out and Claire hit her side. “Sorry,” Zara apologised. 

“Mom?” Carrie asked, excited and shocked, yet not quite grasping what was going on.

“You got in baby!” Claire erupted, handing Carrie the letter also. She started to read it before a terrified look came over her face. 

“You didn’t...with the dean did you?” she asked and Claire laughed. 

“Honey, that was a joke. You got in. You start Monday!” Claire told her daughter, watching as her face went red with excitement and she dropped everything she was holding. She raced to Claire before jumping into her arms and holding her as tightly as she could. Claire did the same. 

“Ah! I’m so excited!” Carrie said into her mother’s ear, although, it was more of a shout than spoken word. Carrie was put back down on her feet and raced towards the receptions phone. She would be calling Lola up, no doubt. The letter was shoved back in Claire’s hand, and that’s when that feeling of change was settling back in. Claire took Carrie to Lola’s for a celebration with her friend, whereas Claire went home, rereading the second part of that letter she had kept from Carrie. The tuition part of it. 

Claire felt like she was on the phone for hours, just arguing and never getting a straight answer from anyone. Eventually, she was on with the one person who could help her, but she knew it was going to go downhill from there. “But I thought I could give you half now and half -” Claire tried to argue, the voice on the other end talking over her. “No, I understand but-” she tried once more, but the person kept up with her, punch for punch in this conversation. “No, please don’t give up her space...I...I’ll figure it out,” she finally ended the call, regretting ever having made it. Claire took a breath, went upstairs to her bathroom and cried for twenty minutes. How was she going to tell Carrie she couldn’t afford Chilton?

When Carrie got home, Claire cleaned up and called Zara. She needed someone to drink with in case her daughter suspected something was going on. Zara arrived, a bottle of white in hand and Claire got the two glasses. Carrie went inside, putting her skirt on for Claire to hem later if need be. Claire and Zara sat on the porch, Claire explained the situation and Zara bit her lip, worried alongside Claire. 

“Maybe you could -” Zara started.

“Nope,” Claire knew what Zara was suggesting and Claire wouldn’t have it. 

“What about -” she tried.

“No.” 

“What if Karen -” she suggested one last time. 

“I would rather die a Stephen King death than resort to that option,” Claire retorted back before Zara finally sighed, holding Claire’s free hand tightly and begging her to listen.

“Claire, it’s Chilton,” Zara said softly and Claire felt her heart grow heavy. 

“I know,” Claire said reluctantly. 

“Mom!” Carrie called out, rushing out onto the porch and seeing her in a plain white t-shirt with the kilt overtaking a majority of her lower body. Claire acted surprised as she took her daughter in.

“Wow! You were swallowed by a kilt,” Claire exclaimed and Carrie groaned, hands bound in her skirt. 

“Fine, you can hem it a little, but isn’t this exciting?” she raced over, taking Claire’s hand and guiding her back inside the house. 

“So exciting, kiddo,” Claire said softly, biting at her lip, worry and dread setting in for the day Claire was going to have tomorrow. 

 

*****

 

Thursday afternoon was winding to a close at Brooke’s Comet high school, Carrie and her best friend Lola Kingston stood by Carrie’s locker. Lola was a young woman from Uganda descent, which her mother reminded Carrie of every time she was over. Although, Lola was born in America, she had strong roots with her heritage, but liked to stray whenever she went to school in one of Claire’s old band shirts; she was much like her American father that way. Lola was the closest thing to a sister Carrie was ever going to get, and she never more thankful than that. 

“I can’t believe it’s your last day tomorrow,” Lola bellowed, most everyone around them stared. Carrie wanted to shut her head inside her locker, but instead, she pushed through it and packed up her belongings. Fixing up her skirt as to make sure the friction between the fabric and her stockings wasn’t getting out of hand, Carrie took the box from Lola’s arms. 

“You know I’m going to miss you,” Carrie said as Lola knocked her hip against Carrie’s. 

“You better!” she laughed before looking at her watch. She hissed under her breath. “Damn, okay, Mom needs me at work, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lola said quickly, hugging Carrie’s side before bolting off out the front door and down the street. Carrie was too consumed in watching Lola go that she was pushed aside by someone needing to leave. She cursed her clumsiness as the box fell to the ground. Kneeling down, Carrie gathered her belongings up and noticing that someone bent down alongside her. She looked up, seeing a boy she hadn’t seen before. He was tall with dark hair and a gorgeous smile that drew Carrie straight in.

“Hi,” he said, his voice thick and making Carrie give a goofy smile back.

“Hi,” she replied. 

“So, moving?” he asked and Carrie looked down at her belongings. 

“My books are,” she told him. “I’m going to a private school now, starting Monday,” 

“I’m Dawson,” he extended his hand and Carrie struggled to extend her hand to him, but she managed, shook it once before struggling once more with the box.

“Carrie,” she squeaked. 

“Do you need help with that?” Dawson grabbed onto the box, holding it easily for Carrie. 

“Uh, yeah,” she shrugged, tucking hair behind her ear and walking out of school with Dawson. 

He was walking her home, but when he found out that they would pass his house on the way to hers, Carrie said she’d be fine the rest of the way, but they could walk in the meantime. Carrie found out that Dawson and his family moved from California, and he was only just starting at the high school. Dawson admitted that he had seen Carrie around, but never knew her name; he said it was like destiny that the person ran into her. 

“Carrie is a nice name,” Dawson said suddenly, and Carrie wasn’t exactly sure what to say, she hadn’t ever been kissed, or very much talked to a guy she thought was attractive in anyway; she would blame her mother for not preparing her for this.

“My name is actually Claire. Which is my Mom’s name too. My Mom went on this feminist streak when she was in the hospital, named me Claire, but she called my Aunt Karen ‘Karrie’ when they were kids, and it kind of stuck for me,” she explained in a long winded ramble. She didn’t feel like she was making an impression him until he laughed slightly. 

“So you’re a combination of your Mom and your aunt?” he asked and Carrie smiled back.

“If you’d like to put it like that, then yes,” she replied. he eventually stopped, handing the box back to Carrie. She noted that it was his house and smiled kindly as he stood in front of her for a moment, completely unmoving. 

“So, Carrie,” he started just as Carrie was about to set off. “I wanted to know if you’d like to go out sometime?” he asked and Carrie could feel her cheeks erupt into a pink mess.

“Um, yeah...yeah, I would,” she smiled nervously.

“Good, I’ll call you,” he said, making his way up the steps. Carrie cleared her throat, stopping Dawson on the steps. 

“But you don’t have my number,” she shrugged and Dawson shook his head before he winked. 

“Lola gave it to me, just wanted to make sure I could use,” he smiled, waving as he got to the door. Carrie walked down the street and skipped a few steps. Then, she stopped. She wasn’t going to see him anymore...she was going to Chilton. 

 

*****

 

When Claire called Karen, her sister was surprised to hear from her. Than she explained why she called, and she was less surprised. Claire walked arm in arm with her sister, the bounding old and expensive building that shouldn’t be classified as a home towered over them. Claire remembered how terrified she was to leave it when she was sixteen. It was odd that she still had that same feeling. Taking a deep breath, she and Karen walked to the door, ringing the doorbell. 

The door opened, and there she was, the same scowling face she had whenever she set eyes on Claire. “Hi Mom,” she said, forcing a smile and her mother’s brow crinkled. 

“Claire. Karen. This is a surprise,” she spoke solemnly before opening the door up to the two. 

“We need to talk,” Claire mentioned, walking past her mother, Karen’s hand still holding tightly to her own. 

“What is it? Christmas?” her mother spoke harshly and Claire pulled back towards the door. Karen’s hand gripped tighter, keeping Claire with her, and keeping her safe.

“Mom, please don’t start,” Karen warned. Their mother threw her hands up in defense before walking towards the living room. It was a magnificent home, with ancient art and incredible architecture that dated back far beyond the living Dearing family. Karen and Claire took a seat, so close that it kept Claire from having a panic attack. Karen was her only support, but with her mother staring her down and her father most likely arriving soon, Claire might not stand a chance. 

“What Karen? We never see your sister. And the only time she’ll tolerate your father and I is on Christmas, so what is going on?” Their mother explained and Claire raised her chin, nails digging into her free hand. 

“Mom, please, come and sit,” Karen told their mother. She reluctantly sat down, legs crossed and hand delicately placed on her knee. 

“Does your sister not have a voice?” Their mother chirped and Claire snapped.

“Mom!” Claire cursed sharply, shocking her mother before they heard footsteps. Claire cleared her throat, noticing her tall and slightly greying father walk into the room. “Hi dad,” she greeted.

“Claire? Is it Christmas?” her father mentioned and Claire shook her head. 

“I shouldn’t have come,” Claire whispered to Karen, trying to stand.

“Claire, sit down,” Karen pulled Claire’s hand down and was forced back onto the chair. “Mom, dad, Claire needs a favour and I can’t help her ‘cause I’m in my own mess,” Karen started to ramble, a common thing the pair had in common of their years inside the Dearing house. 

“She needs money,” her father mentioned coldly, setting his place by her mother’s side.

“Dad, I am in the room,” Claire said back coldly. 

“You need money,” her father said straight to her this time. Claire took in a breath before sighing.

“Can I explain?” she asked, and her father graciously waved his hand for her to continue. “Carrie got into Chilton,” Claire smiled happily, sighing blissfully as her parents’ faces lit up.

“That’s an amazing school, isn’t it, Christopher?” her mother turned to her father excitedly. 

“Yes, Teresa, it is,” he nodded back. 

Claire sighed, smiling back at them before continuing. “Yes, Mom, it is. She can start on Monday...it’s just that the enrollment fee is really high along with first semester tuition and I can’t pay it off by Monday and -” 

“You need money,” her father said quickly. Karen gave a quick squeeze of her hand to reassure Claire it was alright. 

“Fine,” her mother said suddenly and Claire’s attention snapped to her. 

“What?” 

“But on one condition,” Teresa said. Claire held back a comment. “When you repay us, and you will -” 

“Yes, Mom, of course I will,” Claire interjected, making sure they knew it was only a loan.

“In the meantime, you girls must come to Friday night dinners.”

“What?” Claire scoffed, blinking at her mother, as though to make sure she was awake and not dreaming. Or maybe she hoped she was dreaming. Either way, she didn’t want this to happen.

“Karen and the boys already come, so why not you and Carrie?” Teresa suggested and Claire bit onto her tongue before scoffing. 

“You won’t help me unless I agree to this, will you?” she asked, knowing full well what the answer was. 

“No,” Teresa said sweetly and Claire could feel a cavity just from her damn attitude.

“I don’t want Carrie to know about this, okay?” Claire begged and Teresa stood up, proud of her accomplishments and smiled brightly to Claire and Karen. 

“Arrive at Seven o’clock. Don’t be late,” she said and walked out of the room, the champion of another game Claire didn’t want to play. Claire sighed, Karen’s hand squeezing hers tightly. Claire leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder. 

 

*~*~*

 

Claire and Carrie sat patiently as their order was being made, both girls remained silent. Claire didn’t understand why Carrie was silent, but the events of the day certainly made Claire quiet. She pushed through it though, especially as Owen walked over with two plates full of food. She beamed and battered her eyelashes at the man. Placing them down, he ripped off their order, placing the check next to Claire’s plate.

“Red meat can kill you. Enjoy,” he said plainly. Claire smiled up at him, battering her eyelashes again, and after ten years, he knew what it was code for. He faked a smile, his lips guiding up into a natural one and a look sparked in his eyes before walking away. Claire felt proud of herself before she looked back at her daughter. 

“He’s flirting with you,” Carrie said and Claire scoffed.

“Is not!” 

“He gave you a look,” Carrie insisted and Claire kicked Carrie’s shin underneath the table.

“Carrie Dearing, watch your tongue!” Claire warned. Carrie bent, rubbing her shin. 

“Mom, you and Owen have been flirting for years,” she explained and Claire shook her head.

“We haven’t. It’s banter, nothing more. Now eat your meat and die a little faster,” Claire winked and Carrie chuckled a little. Now they seemed happier, Claire knew it was the point where she would turn everything to crap. “Before I forget, we have dinner with your grandparents on friday,” Claire muttered before taking a big bite of her burger. 

“It isn’t Christmas,” Carrie retorted back quickly. It was times like these that Claire wished Carrie didn’t get everything from her. 

“Well, it’s a dinner we have to go to from now on, so let’s just deal with it,” Claire muttered, not looking directly at her daughter. 

“I don’t want to go to Chilton,” Carrie said quickly, taking her own huge bite. Claire invented that damn move. 

“What?” Claire asked, stunned. 

“It’s too expensive, and you and Zara need that money for your own inn. It’s too far away and I’m not good enough,” Carrie spurted out some ramblings and Claire shook her head in defiance. 

“Where is this coming from?” Claire asked, watching her daughter blink and answer without hesitation. 

“My mouth, right this moment.” Claire couldn’t take this. She got up, not even finishing her coffee or her meal. She just kept shaking her head, her brow furrowed and there was a sting in her eye.

“I’m going, I can’t listen to this right now,” Claire said, gathering her belongings together. 

“Mom?” Carrie said, following suit and placing money on the table. Claire ran straight into Owen on her way to the door.

“Woah, what’s wrong, hot head?” he asked. Claire had to bite onto her lip for some sort of restraint. Owen noticed straight away, his hand going to her shoulder for comfort.

“I’m a frustrated parent, do you really want to deal with that right now?” she warned, a tear going down her face and Carrie didn’t see. Owen nodded, letting her rush out the door first with Carrie following behind. Claire wiped away the tear and continued down the street. 

They went down the street, passing Lucy’s dance studio like they always did. Lucy was wrapping up the small routine by the young ones and their parents were waiting to collect them. Lucy rushed down the steps, her gorgeous dark hair bounced, so much so that she had to blow her fringe from her eyes. 

“Carrie, who was that lovely tall boy you were walking with this afternoon? He seemed to really adore you,” Lucy asked and Carrie gasped. She folded her arms and started to rush down the street, heading down the path that led to their house. Claire clicked her tongue as she followed behind. 

“Oh, you better walk away from me! I’m going to pull a Jurassic Park and stalk you like a damn T-Rex!” she shouted, making sure she didn’t let Carrie out of her sight for anything. Carrie was trying her hardest to beat Claire home, even tried to slam the front door after her as she walked inside. “I should have known this was about a boy!” Claire shouted out and Carrie groaned. 

“Mom! Leave me alone!” 

“He better drive a motorcycle. Motorcycles are the only reason I will let you ruin your whole life,” 

 

*****

 

Carrie knew her mother was waiting for her, mostly because she had a post-it note stuck to her forehead telling her so and her mother wasn’t in their house. Carrie walked to Owen’s, seeing Claire from the across the street. Her knee bouncing up and down as she waited to see Carrie most likely. There was a coffee steaming in its paper cup and Claire seemed nervous, unlike herself. Carrie walked up the steps and sat down across her mother.

“Hi,” she greeted plainly. 

“Dinner at your grandparents tonight,” Claire said back, as though Carrie needed a reminder.

“I remember,” Carrie said back looking over to the counter to see if she could see Owen. He wasn’t there, but she heard him swear from the kitchen. He had burned his hand; that’s what all his yelling was about. 

“Be home so we get there by seven,” her mother spoke but Carrie didn’t turn back. She really just wanted to see Owen and get her coffee that morning. “Aunt Karen will be there,” Claire said.

“Something to look forward to,” Carrie replied. Claire huffed before getting up and gathering her things. As she did so, Owen saw Carrie tapping her empty cup and walked over. He almost knocked into her mother like he usually did.

“Enjoy the coffee,” he told her, smiling the same smile that her mother never noticed. 

“Always do,” Claire beamed back before heading out the diner. Owen watched her until she finally out of view.

“So, are you still pining?” Carrie said, tapping her cup again. Owen cleared his throat. 

“I don’t pine, kid,” he mentioned, taking the mug and pouring the coffee into it. He then looked down at Carrie with a curious look, as though he was trying to make sure she wasn’t kidding. “Your mom doesn’t even -” 

“How do you know? You’ve never asked,” Carrie said quickly, a trait from her mother that she gladly received. 

“Don’t you have school or something?” he asked with a chuckle, handing back her mug.

“Or something,” she said, taking a sip. “Ask her out. She’s bugging me, I want her off my hands,” Carrie winked and Owen shook his head.

“On the house,” Owen smirked and Carrie revelled in her coffee.

 

*~*~*

 

They drove to the house in silence. Claire didn’t talk to Carrie, and Carrie was worried that something might happen if she asked her mother more questions on the night’s proceedings. They stood at the front door, dressed in semi-formal dresses before Claire rang the bell and reached for Carrie’s hand. Carrie didn’t expect it, but gripped tighter into it as they waited. Carrie’s grandmother answered the door. She nodded and smiled at the sight of them both. “Claire, Carrie,” she beamed.

“Mother,” Claire quickly replied. 

“You two look lovely,” “Dinner just started,” 

“There was traffic and it was horrible, I’m sorry,” Claire tried to say before Karen stood and raced over to Claire, they embraced for a short time.

“Hmm, Karen got here on time,” Teresa muttered and Claire shook her head.

“Of course she did,” Claire mumbled.

“I did tell her about the traffic,” Karen remarked before embracing Carrie. Carrie adored her Aunt Karen, she loved the stories she would share, and she was someone she could always go to in case her mother wasn’t available.

“In her mind, I created the traffic to not make it,” Claire whispered and Carried tried to hide her smirk.

“Shut up,” Karen giggled back. At the table, Zach and Gray sat on the same side as their mother, eating their dinner and smiling at Carrie as she walked in. Carrie waved, feeling awkward and out of place amongst the formal setting and the house always made her feel uneasy, like she didn’t belong. 

Taking their places side by side, Claire and Carrie sat down, their chicken dishes given to them and they dug straight in. They got a fair way into the meal before Carrie’s grandmother cleared her throat. Carrie turned her attention to her grandmother. “Do you like your chicken, Carrie?” she asked and Carrie nodded.

“It’s very nice Grandma,” she replied. 

“And Claire?” Teresa asked next and Carrie turned to her mother. Claire shrugged. 

“Worth marrying,” she replied and Carrie chuckled underneath her breath.

“Pardon?” Teresa asked, confused by the statement. 

“It’s great, Mom,” Claire said back quickly.

“Carrie, do you know who I spoke to today?” Carrie’s grandfather, at the other end of the table spoke next and Carrie smiled at the sight of him. She really did love her grandfather, an intellectual man and could always make Carrie feel like she smarter than she was most likely. 

“Who, Grandpa?” she asked cheerfully. 

“Your father, Nathaniel.”

“Why did you speak to Nate?” Claire asked, her fork dropping to her plate. Carrie’s father was always a sore issue with Claire. He was something that always made her go loopy and not quite herself. She was under his spell whenever he was around. 

“He’s got a new business. He was so smart. You must take after him, Carrie,” Christopher said and Claire rubbed at her lip for a moment before standing up from the table abruptly. 

“Speaking of which, I’m going to go get a beer. Or a knife,” Claire had her hands bound and Carrie became concerned. She stood up, even Karen stood to go check on Claire. 

“Maybe I should go -” 

“No, sit down. I’ll go,” Teresa said, storming off to the kitchen. Carrie and Karen both sat down, waiting patiently for them to walk through the door. Little did they know, the conversation carried from the kitchen to the dining room. “Claire, come back to the table.” 

“Is this how it’s going to be every friday? I’m going to come here and get attacked for everything I’ve ever done in my life,” Claire said harshly back. 

“This is for us to see our granddaughter, who we don’t get to see, no thanks to you,” Teresa said rudely and Claire groaned, her begging and pleading not going unheard in Carrie’s ears.

“Mom! Please! Please don’t do this!” 

“You tore that girl away from us the second you could! Did you really hate us that much!” Teresa mentioned next and Carrie stared down at her plate. 

“Mom! I was unhappy. I could never be happy in your world and you damn well knew it! I left so I could start fresh with my daughter!” Claire yelled.

“And look where that got you!” Teresa scoffed. 

“Yes, Mom! I realise I had to borrow money from you and dad, but Carrie deserves to go to Chilton and get into Harvard!” Carrie looked to the kitchen door and back at Aunt Karen. She nodded, almost as if she was confirming what was going on. Carrie felt her heart grow heavy. 

“Don’t you walk away from me!” Teresa said next before Carrie saw Claire rush out of the kitchen, sniffing and on the verge of tears.

“There was no finishing time for our little dinner, so off we go!” Claire made wild gestures before she motioned for Carrie to get up. She did. “Carrie, coat, now!” 

“Mom?” Carrie said softly before Claire stopped and looked back to her.

“Carrie,” she said calmly and Carrie nodded.

“Okay, See you Grandpa! Aunt Karen! Zach, Gray!” Carrie waved to them all, following her mother and getting into the car.

 

*****

 

It was silent for a while before Carrie cleared her throat. Claire knew she couldn’t avoid it, knew there was no way in hell that Carrie didn’t hear the conversation. Claire sighed a little heavier, letting out all her worry and just made sure Carrie felt comfortable with talking to her again. “Mom, I didn’t want you to go to grandma and grandpa for Chilton,” Carrie said in a worried tone. 

Claire breathed out. She just needed to breathe for just a second. She felt like the closer she was to her parents, the harder it was to breathe. “Come on, Kiddo. I need to breath and you need to get home.” 

“Mom, you should have told me,” Carrie urged. Claire reached out for her daughter’s hand. She took it and Claire brought Carrie’s knuckles to her lips. 

“I know, sweetie. You tired?” she asked and Carrie gave a small sound that basically meant ‘eh’. 

“I kind of wanted to talk to Aunt Karen a little more,” Carrie confessed and Claire stopped the car when they got to the house. 

“Call her when you get inside. I’m going to pick up some coffee and donuts,” Claire said, watching as Carrie opened the door but didn’t get out. 

“Thank you, mom,” Carrie said, kissing her mother’s cheek and going towards the house, a little worn out and a little concerned. What that girl put on her shoulders was incredible. Claire barely knew how she made something so amazing. 

Driving back to Owen’s, the lights were still on downstairs, the same man in flannel and backwards baseball cap from the morning was wiping down tables. Claire rubbed behind her neck before gaining the courage to go inside. Pushing past the door that said it was closed, she heard the chime and Owen didn’t even look up. 

“We’re closed,” he said coldly, before he turned his attention to Claire. He stood up a little straighter as he saw her. 

“Owen, can you just not kick me out right now? I’ve had one of the worst nights of my life and I need to get coffee,” Claire said, making her way to the front counter and sat on one of the stools. Owen threw the rag over his shoulder before he started to brew some fresh coffee. 

“Two coffees and two donuts?” he asked and Claire nodded. “I don’t like to get into mushy stuff. You know that,” he sighed before leaning on the bench, “but what’s wrong?” And then it all fell out, all in one breath, it felt like. She gained the courage to breathe and she was using it all at once. 

“My life has been a mess ever since I was sixteen. Carrie was the only perfect and pure thing in my life. But it seems like I can’t outrun my family. I wanted to get past this, for my parents to treat me like a human being and somehow getting pregnant was just the last straw for them. They hate me and it seems like I hate them but I don’t, and everything's a mess when they get involved. They control everything.” When Claire looked up to Owen, he was blinking in shock. She sighed, burying her face in her hands, the tears on her face were staining her make up to her skin most likely, and then it was his voice.

“Claire,” Owen said, almost sweetly. He tipped his finger underneath her chin, a genuine smile on his lips. “Live your life on your terms. Stand your ground, be strong. Or whatever.” he shrugged and Claire chuckled. He handed her the two coffees, a little paper bag with two donuts inside. Claire started to reach for money when Owen stopped her. “On the house,” he said softly and Claire sniffed.

“I’d kiss you if it didn’t tarnish your whole ‘loner’ vibe,” she mentioned, chuckling and Owen rolled his eyes. 

“Get out of here you addict,” he said, urging her to go. Yet, there was look on his face that spoke to her, like he was biting his tongue on something he desperately wanted to say. Claire didn’t move, just looked back at him and smiled.

“You have something to say there, buddy?” she asked. He straightened again, almost gaining courage, then it was all suddenly gone. 

“Nah, it’s nothing. Just...something that doesn’t matter. It’s going to be fine, Claire,” he smiled and Claire cleared her throat. She smiled back and waved to him as she left. She looked back to him as she walked back to her car, wondering what exactly he was going to ask her. 


	2. I'm In A Blue Haze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took like fucking weeks to write and i hate this entire thing. I’m the worst. Anyway.

Why wouldn't the nagging stop? Claire groaned, shoving her head under her pillow and curling up to keep warm underneath her blankets. Then, Claire felt her daughter’s body flop down onto hers, jumping up and down to urge Claire from her sleep. Why was her kid so eager to get to school? Right….Claire raised her. Claire groaned as Carrie rose from Claire's hip. Claire looked to her daughter now, light shining in through the window, so bright it felt blinding. Carrie was dressed completely in her new school uniform. “Why are you dressed? We don't have to leave for hours,” Claire asked, pulling the pillow back over her head. Carrie wrenched it away, shoving Claire's alarm clock in her face. 

“I'm gonna be late on my first day,” Carrie whined and Claire sat up, snatching the alarm clock from Carrie’s hand, eyes still blurred and unable to see the time. 

“No your not. If the alarm didn't go off, then we’re not late,” Claire groaned, eyes finally adjusting and the clock read 7:10, an hour after Claire's alarm was supposed to go off. “oh, my god! We're late! Stupid alarm!” she squeaked, jumping out of bed, tangled in the sheets and falling to the floor. Carrie helped her up, brow furrowed deep and angered. 

“Go get dressed, I'll be waiting downstairs,” Carrie ordered. Claire shuffled off after her daughter, diverting in different directions; Carrie down the stairs and Claire into the bathroom. She had no time for a real shower, and she knew it. Cursing herself and that stupid alarm, she quickly jumped into the shower for less than a minute, washing herself briefly, not daring to touch her hair, and spraying deodorant everywhere. Rushing into her bedroom, she realised her work clothes were at drycleaners, which was going to pick up before Carrie woke up. Now, she was in lack of professional clothes. Or clean clothes. Claire would have to do something drastic. Snatching up the clean clothes, she pulled them on and grabbed her boots on the way down.

Claire started to tie up her hair, hopping down the stairs as she put the opposite boot on and finally at the bottom, putting the other on easily. Carrie just stood with a blank expression of shock covering her face. “Mom! What are you wearing?” Carrie called out and Claire looked down at her ridiculous outfit. Dawned in a purple tie-dye shirt with high waisted denim shorts, she was looking far more casual than she had ever looked in her life. 

“It’s the only clean stuff I had and my work clothes are at the dry cleaners,” Claire shrugged looking at Carrie. Carrie shrugged back.

“You look like a rodeo girl,” she spat back quickly and Claire walked slowly past their small little table that held their phone and mail, as well as family photos. Claire snatched one of Carrie’s baby photos, holding it hostage above her head. 

“Baby pictures are going in the jeep,” she smirked, waving it over her head and grabbing her longest coat, rushing out the front door.

“No, wait, I love your outfit, it suits you,” Carrie said, rushing out after her and chasing Claire to the car.

Claire drive quickly, Carrie lecturing Claire on how ridiculous the alarm was. Little did her daughter know was that Claire was thinking the exact same thing. When the jeep stopped in the parking lot, both girls looked up at the towering school, scared in its wake. Claire gripped hard into the steering wheel, an overwhelming sense of her family’s legacy bearing down. Claire gripped into her daughter’s shoulder before tugging her into a good hug. She wished her good luck before Carrie looked at her queerly. 

“You have to meet the headmaster,” she replied and Claire gestured down to herself.

“Honey, I’m a cowgirl, I can’t,” Claire protested. 

“You have to,” Carried retorted sharply. Claire sighed, grabbing her coat and slipping it over her shoulder as best as she could inside the jeep. Inhaling quickly, Claire opened up the door, tying the coat around her and meeting at Carrie’s side.

They glanced around, looking down the ancient hallways and being intimidated by the things with every look. Claire walk beside Carrie, gesturing down some hallways and watching her daughter wander aimlessly. “So, headmaster’s office is…”

“Lost?” a man asked. Claire turned to him, seeing Carrie stop with her hands on her hips.  

“Yeah, we’re looking for the headmaster’s office,” Claire asked. The man, taller and pinned in a nice suit, smiled at her. 

“Just down that hall,” he gestured and Carrie was off. 

“Mom, come on!” she called out and Claire was about to walk to her when the man reached out his hand to her. 

“Hi I’m Ian Cornwall,” he said. Claire met his hand quickly, shaking it and smiling back at him.

“Claire Dearing. Is your wife around?” she asked.

“Divorced. Husband?” 

“Not married.” 

“That’s great.”

“Mom!” Carrie shouted. Claire took in a deep breath.

“Listen, I really have to go, meet the big guy. And I have to get to work,” she nodded.

“Where do you work,” Ian asked. 

“The Independence Inn, I run it. In a different outfit of course,” Claire admitted, but the regret started to pour into her chest. 

“Mom!” Carrie shouted again. 

“Sorry, really have to go,” Claire shrugged, rushing off to find Carrie’s side. 

“Seriously Mom?” Carrie scowled and Claire rolled her eyes.

“Shut up,” Claire said, her hip knocking Carrie’s. Claire and Carrie found the headmaster’s office, sitting and waiting for a few moments before they were allowed to go inside. When they got inside the office, Claire was shocked to see someone. “Mom?” she said, stepping cautiously with Carrie. 

“Claire, so good of you to come,” Teresa smiled and gestured to the chairs beside her. The headmaster smiled to them. Carrie and Claire sat down, the beginning of a hard and awkward interview process. 

When Carrie left, Claire kissed her forehead, her daughter hurrying off to her first class. Claire stood with Teresa, the anger and frustration filling the air easily. Claire folded her arms, tightening her grip on her arms and breathing deeply as she knew how her mother would react and scold her. It took less time than expected. 

“How could you embarrass me like that?” Teresa complained. 

“You’re the one that made me take off the coat,” Claire huffed, tucking her coat around her further. And embarrassing moment for everyone in the room. Claire hated that she did that to Carrie, but also enjoyed the look on her mother’s face when she saw what Claire was wearing. 

“I just don’t understand how you could -” 

Claire groaned before turning to her mother. “I’m not doing this right now. I’m going to let Carrie have a nice day at school, and I have work to get to. You do whatever it is that you do. See you on Friday,” she said angrily, turning on her heels and walking to her car. When she got inside, her head hit the steering wheel, a moment where she prayed this day would go better than it had. 

Rushing off to the dry cleaners, picking up her clothes and changing the moment she got to work. Claire worked the front desk, standing by Vivian’s side as guests came through and answering the phone with suppliers. When Lowery came in, selling one of his numerous jobs to Vivian - who rejected them outright - Claire saw the father from Chilton. Her brow knitted just before he spotted her. He walked over to the desk, greeting her nicely. 

“Hi,” she said, her voice a little shaken in surprise. 

“Hi again,” he smiled brightly, leaning his weight onto the front counter. “I was wondering, if you had plans for Saturday night?” he asked and Claire let out a shocked breath. 

“Sorry?” she said quickly. 

“I wanted to take you to dinner, for a date,” he elaborated. Claire blinked a few times, considering the option and as her mind raced over the possibility of someone...she shook her head. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not really seeing anyone right now. It’s a weird time for me. But thank you,” she replied, tucking stray hairs behind her ear. As Lowery adjusted his glasses, he pointed at the guy, who Vivian and Lowery both snickered at - as though they knew what he was doing and the idea was ridiculous. Claire kept her mouth shut firmly. Vivian walked back over.

“Oh, alright. Maybe another time then,” Ian nodded and Claire nodded back. 

“Yeah,” she said, watching him walk and waving to Ian as he glanced over his shoulder. “Bye,” she said softly and Vivian leaned over to her.

“The lies that come out of your mouth,” Vivian whispered and Claire gritted her teeth. 

“Vivian, you’re killing me here,” she whispered back before the two laughed. They continued on with their day, Zara only hurting herself once the entire day - later celebrating with one of the most beautiful cakes ever made, courtesy of Zara. When two o’clock rolled around, Claire said goodbye and drove to the diner. Fixing up her business skirt, she skipped up the steps and walked to the counter, sitting across from Owen. He turned to her, visibly jumping as he saw Claire. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked. 

“I like your diner,” Claire mentioned, her brow creased and Owen shook his head.

“No, I mean at this time,” he elaborated. 

“Carrie needs a lift home but she said she’d call this afternoon sometime if she needed me earlier,” she explained and she sighed, leaning her chin on her hand. Owen, cleaning a mug with one of the dishcloths he had over his shoulder.

“What’s up with you?” he asked. Claire sighed, laying her head on the counter, Owen cleaning the bench around her. 

“I had the  _ weirdest _ day. Starting off with me wearing a dukes of hazzard outfit to my daughter’s first day of private school, as well as my mother, you know, existing,” she sighed as Owen chuckled. Claire sat back up, watching Owen. “And some dad from Chilton drove all the way to the Inn to ask me out,” she said simply.

“And are you going?” Owen said, clearing his throat. 

“No. It would be too weird for Carrie,” Claire reasoned. 

“Good,” Owen said, turning around to get the coffee pot. He stayed focused on it for a little while, before Claire replied. 

“Good?” Claire asked and Owen turned back around, filling up a mug with coffee and sliding it to her. He took a deep breath before he replied.

“I think it’s good that you turned him down,” he said and Claire sipped at her coffee, enjoying the taste but feeling like something was off about it. She still drank it. “You know, not to make it awkward for Carrie,” he shrugged. Just as Claire was about to speak, her phone started to ring in her purse. Owen groaned, the small smile he had was gone, replaced with an immovable scowl. He pointed out the door. 

“Oh, come on,” Claire groaned, searching her purse for her phone. 

“Out,” he said.

“And we were getting along just fine,” 

“Out,” Owen repeated. Just as Claire reached the door, she answered her phone, hearing a hysterical Carrie on the other end. She was blabbering and sniffing.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Claire asked, glancing back to Owen, who now had a worried look gracing his brow. As Carrie started to cry a little more, Claire interrupted her. “Okay! I’m coming,” she said, going back to her chair and grabbing her purse.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Carrie wants me to pick her up, she’s having a tough day,” Claire said, grabbing her wallet to pay. Owen shook his head. 

“On the house. I gave you decaf,” Owen shrugged and Claire’s mouth dropped opening.

“You’re an awful man, you know that?”

“Sue me,” he said bluntly, but as Claire’s smile grew, so did Owen’s. There was a slight smirk that appeared on his lips before he shook his head and continued on with his job. There were times where she couldn’t help but wonder about the future, how she saw her life playing out and in every scenario, he was there. It was impossible for Claire to not have Owen in her life, ever since he became part of Carrie’s life, there was always a spot in the middle, holding them close and embracing them. Owen was part of their family, but it was hard to know what his title was.

Claire took hold of her purse, before rushing to the car to pick up Carrie.

 

*****

A month after her freak out at Chilton, Carrie was adjusting to school a lot easier. She wasn’t struggling, she wasn’t being harassed by other classmates - she was existing and doing well. She was smart and capable, like her mother convinced her of being that day after school. Carrie, having been going out on a few dates with Dawson, was happy with where she was. Gathering some chocolate for their Thursday movie night, Carrie past Lowery in Simon Masrani’s store, waving to him.

“Hi, Lowery,” Carrie smiled and Lowery adjusted his glasses, smiling to her. Carrie remembered when he was younger - a dorky man who tried to ask out her mother a few times. He was still a staple in her life - an interesting and quirky man that she didn’t know if she could live without. 

“Dawson is stacking things in the back,” he pointed, being polite and knowing who Carrie was in there for anyway. 

“Thank you, Lowery,” Carrie said politely, walking to the back of the store, finding the chocolate and wandering back. When she turned a corner, Dawson smiled, leaning down to her and capturing her lips swiftly. Carrie made a startled sound against his lips. When they separated, Dawson was cheerful, where Carrie felt stunned. 

“Hi,” Dawson smiled. Carrie blinked, holding onto the chocolate and let out a shaken breath.

“Hi,” she breathed. “I gotta go,” she blinked again before rushing past her boyfriend and out of the store. She ran past Owen’s, smiling to herself as she had the sudden realisation that she just shared her first kiss with a boy she really liked. It was the first time she was kissed; and evidently, the first time she shoplifted. Her mother would be proud. 

Oh, god. How the hell would her mother react? Yeah, Claire was strict and never made any kind rules concerning boys - but this was Carrie’s first kiss. Claire was going to drag this out....oh god, she was going to get Carrie a balloon or something to make Carrie feel like an idiot. Claire was mature when needed - and apparently that was never with Carrie. She stopped when she got to the front door of their house, stunned by her thoughts. She couldn’t tell Claire yet. Just needed a few days for it all to cool off. 

Carrie was gathering some of the pizza left over in the fridge, when her mother started to walk lazily around the kitchen. She sighed and wandered, gradually making her way towards Carrie. Continuing on, with the food gathering, Carrie could feel her mother tutting, as though she was trying to decide what to do or to say. Carrie knew this behaviour and wondered what her mother was up to. Then, she huffed, placing her chin on Carrie’s shoulder and pointing to food she wanted. 

“So,” she started. “Make out with any cute boys lately?” Carrie rolled her eyes, looking over her shoulder to her beaming mother. 

“Who?” she asked plainly.

“Mrs Kingston.” 

“Of course.” Carrie started towards the lounge room when her mother started to walk beside her.

“You were going to keep your first kiss from me. Have I not raised you better?” she asked, giving a hard pout and a look designed by begging dogs. 

“I wasn’t going to keep it from you...I was just -” Carrie stuttered and Claire gasped. 

“You were going to keep it from me!” 

“Well you know now,” Carrie groaned, setting down their food and returning to the kitchen, followed in toe by her mother. 

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” Claire asked, the same worried look on her face. Carrie turned the corner into her bedroom, shut her eyes and looked back at her mother.

“Do you have a balloon waiting in my room?” she said, pointing into her room. 

“Yes,” Claire smiled and Carrie rolled her eyes. 

“That’s why,” Carrie replied. 

“When did you become such a stick in the mud?” Claire pouted. 

“Since you made me be the mature one,” Carried said with a fake smile. 

“False. I’m the mature one. Just not around you,” Claire said, putting her hands on the hips. Carrie’s brow narrowed. 

“You’ve been binge watching  _ The Office _ without me again, haven’t you?” she accused. Claire raised her chin, walking off towards the lounge room.

“Oh, just because you go to private school doesn’t mean you get to dictate my viewing habits,” she said angrily over her shoulder. Carrie’s mouth gapped open. 

“You watched it without me!” 

“Payback for the kissing thing. It’s a bitch, isn’t it?” Claire winked and Carrie charged her. Tackling her mouth to the couch, both of them giggled before Claire started to tickle Carrie, who squeaked and screeched like an idiot. But that was just how things were.

 

*~*~*

 

A year went by, things happened and craziness ensuing. Honestly, the amount of arguments that Claire could get in with her parents was insane. Lowery decided to sell fruits he bought at Simon’s, except they were more expensive and half eaten. He also made a movie that was quite frankly the best - and weirdest - experience of anyone’s life. Dawson and Carrie had been going strong, not fighting - maybe a few arguments here and there, but nothing serious - and they were happy. For the most part. 

When Autumn was rolling around, there was an unusual stir, something was coming and the entire town could feel it. The unusualness started when Owen was waiting at the bus stop. He was rocking back on the balls of his feet, glancing around the corner, just waiting. Claire and Carrie sat patiently in the gazebo, watching Owen and his impatience. Claire and Carrie drank coffee and ate donuts, watching like it was TV. They even bet at several points the moment he would go to the diner and come back because he was arguing with himself. Claire won the bet three times, which irritated Carrie beyond feeling. 

Then, the bus came around the corner. Owen started to become incredibly nervous and the girls perked, watching who Owen was waiting for. A few dozen people came out before a tall blonde stood in front of Owen. They matched height relatively well, but the boy scowled to Owen, an irritated and annoyed look gracing his brow. Owen pointed towards the diner as the boy hitched up his duffle bag on his shoulder. 

“Who’s that?” Carrie whispered to Claire. She shrugged.

“No clue, kid,” Claire said, getting up and dusting the donut powder on her pants. “Let’s go ask,” Claire smiled to her. The girls started towards Owen, calling out to him. He turned, waving to them before they finally reached Owen and the boy. “Hi,” Claire greeted to stranger. 

“Whatever,” he murmured, glancing down at Carrie for a moment. She let out a sigh as their eyes trailed on one another. Carrie shot her attention back to Owen, clinging to her mother’s side. It was odd and Carrie glanced over her shoulder to see him. He was looking back at her. She bit her lip before turning back to Owen. 

“Well isn’t he chatty,” Claire muttered. “Who’s the kid?” she asked Owen. He placed his hands in his pockets. 

“Benny Martin’s kid, Luke,” he said, taking off his cap, rubbing at his head before placing is on in its backwards state. 

“Oh, I remember Benny, how is he?” Claire asked cheerfully. 

“Dead.” 

“What?” Claire exclaimed. Owen gritted his teeth, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“He was sick a lot. Cancer and all. He asked me to take Luke in if Mary wouldn’t…”

“And Mary wouldn’t?” Claire said.

“Said she didn’t want to deal with his ‘angst’, whatever that means. So he’s mine now...well, until he’s eighteen of course,” he shrugged. 

“You’re gonna do great, Owen. I mean, you have raised Carrie. You’re practically her second dad,” Claire said and Carrie looked up at her mother. She was blushing. Carrie smiled to Owen, before tugging her mother away and letting Owen get back to diner. 

A passing of a few days, the town gossiped about Luke, the tall blonde with a horrible attitude. He wore dark clothes and had a horrible disposition towards Owen, treating him rudely - most of the town loving Owen, found this insensitive and did not care for Luke. Yet, the moments of just Luke and Carrie, she felt close to him - seeing past the hard shell and knowing there was more to what he gave. 

As Carrie sat at her bus stop, Dawson came around, slinging his arm over her shoulder. “Dawson, hey,” she greeted, kissing him briefly. 

“Hey gorgeous,” he smiled. There was a loud bang at the corner diner, Luke with a small book in hand started down the street. With a pair of blank skinny jeans, a denim vest with band patches sewn into it and a plain shirt underneath - he embodied the ideal punk-rocker dude, someone who didn’t want anyone talking to him. Still, he intrigued Carrie. “Who’s the mean dude?” Dawson asked. 

“He’s not mean. He’s just here when he doesn’t want to be. Luke Martin,” she told her boyfriend, holding onto his hand.

“I don’t like him,” Dawson said, scowling at Luke as he walked past him. 

“You don’t even know him,” Carrie scoffed and Dawson looked down at her. 

“And you do? He seems like bad news,” Dawson muttered, kissing the top of Carrie’d head. 

 

*~*~*

 

One Saturday afternoon, a month or so into Luke being in town, Carrie spotted him - well, she found him in the middle of the square because no one was walking around it which was very odd. When she found him, she understood. Stepping up onto the gazebo, she saw Luke lying on a bench, legs up and reading a book above his head. She whistled at him, and he was startled. He smiled when he saw her and it made her feel a little special. 

“Hi,” she greeted. He sat up from the bench, sitting and patting the seat next to him, letting her sit down.

“You’re that girl,” he said simply. 

“Carrie,” she nodded.

“Luke,” he gave in return. 

“I know,” she said, sitting down next to him. “If you ever need a friend, I’m around,” she smiled and Luke scoffed, leaning over to her. 

“I’ll cheat off you in class, I’m sure,” he tried to ask as though he didn't care. Carrie knew better. 

“I don’t go to school here, sorry,” she shrugged.

“Damn, I was eager to cheat off the smartest person in the town,” he said, letting his arm go behind her back and stay on the bench. 

“Sorry. Maybe you’ll just have to rely on your own intellectual capabilities,” she said candidly. 

“I might be stupid,” he scoffed. Carrie laughed. 

“You carry around a new book with you everywhere you go, and you make notes in the margin. You’re not stupid,” she remarked. 

“We should hang out sometime,” he said, a wink following his words. She felt a hot rush run over her cheeks before she stood.

“Yeah. And if you aren’t being an ass to everyone else you meet, you might just have time for me,” she tucked hair behind her ear, then hurried down the steps. 

“See you around, Carrie,” Luke called out after her. She smiled over her shoulder at him. 

 

*****

 

For many years, Claire had found that going to Owen’s Diner was the only thing that could make her mornings feel full. And she only liked to be served by Owen - he had a way of being cruel to her that was so endearing and honest, she never felt offended because Owen never meant what he said. It was an odd relationship, but it was how things worked. So, when Claire walked into the diner that morning and Barry was the only one behind the counter, Claire was a bit miffed. 

“Where is he?” Claire said cheerfully over the counter. Barry gestured to the stairs behind the counter - leading up to Owen’s, strange and unvisited, apartment. 

“Upstairs. He split oil on his flannel,” he said and Claire gave an exaggerated gasp. 

“The scandal!” she said, putting her hand on her chest. Barry laughed and let her go up the stairs. Taking the only chance she’ll ever get to go up those stairs again, she opened the door, knocking a few times. “Owen?” 

“In here,” he called back to her, and she moved around the small corner, finding Owen shirtless at his chest of drawers. “Wait what are you doing up here?” he asked, turning to find another shirt. Claire was staring at him, not because of toned and beautiful body - though, it wasn’t too bad to look at - she was staring at the tattoos that laced his body. Across his ribs there were dark silhouette, an eagle perched on his shoulder and as he turned, there was dark red rose held in a hand in the middle of his back. As Owen placed his new flannel on, buttoning it up and smiling weakly at Claire.  

“Okay, do you think I’m just going to ignore that?” Claire scoffed and Owen’s brow knitted.

“Ignore what?” 

“You have tattoos!” she exclaimed. Owen chuckled, standing in front of Claire, hands planted on his hips.

“Yeah, they’ve never been a secret,” he shrugged.

“I’ve known you for over ten years and not once have I seen your tattoos or had you mention them!” Claire exclaimed. Owen’s confused face spread into a wide smile, still baffled but amused by everything that was happening. 

“Well, I have them and I’m going out of town tomorrow with Luke to get another one,” he said, rolling up his sleeves and smiling at her. 

“What?” 

“Can I get back downstairs to my business?” Owen said, stepping past Claire and waiting for her at the door. She stepped out after him, watching as he closed the door. 

“What’s your new tattoo going to be?” she asked as he turned to key to his door. 

“Do I have to tell you everything about my life?” Owen started down the stairs, placing his cap back on, twirling it backward to its constant position. 

“Oh, come on!” Claire called out from the top of the stairs. 

“Come down or else no coffee!” Owen yelled and Claire raced down the stairs. 

The next day rolled in, Claire telling Carrie about the whole thing - both girls remarking on how Owen had never mentioned or showed off his tattoos. Even as they continued on in the town, Claire asked Lowery - who admitted he touched one whilst it was still healing, hench why he had never brought them up again. Apparently everyone in the town knew - mainly because Owen got his first in high school to match his father’s - The rose in the middle of his back.

As Claire picked at the large pretzel in Carrie’s hand, the town came alive with one sound - a motorcycle. Motorcycles were pretty uncommon around Brooke’s Comet, so when one started to roar, the town stood still. Claire watched the bike curl around corners and make its way into the town. Claire's mouth gaped open as she caught Carrie’s arm. 

“Is that a 2015 Indian Chief? I think I may die from beauty,” she said, Carrie giggling at the thought and they continued on. As they crossed the street, the bike stopped ahead of them. The rider leaning his weight on the handles.

“Hey, take off your shirt,” The man on the bike yelled. Claire and Carrie both stopped. Claire shut her eyes, wishing with all her heart that it wasn’t him - but Claire knew better.

“Oh, no,” she groaned, turning with Carrie as the man took off his helmet. The tough jaw with a dark beard and the thick hair that was still as gorgeous as it was when they were sixteen.  “Nate,” Claire clicked her tongue. 

“Dad!” Carrie called out, jumping into her father's grasp. He chuckled, holding Carrie tightly. 

“Hey babe,” Nate said, smiling towards Claire. She rolled her eyes before Carrie turned around. Tucking her daughter under her arm again, she whispered to her daughter.

“Hey, honey, can you go get us some coffee from Owen’s? I’ll meet you there,” she asked and Carrie looked up queerly. She nodded before going down the street to the diner. Claire stepped forward into Nate’s space, making him hiss in a sudden breath. “What the hell are you doing here! And you don’t get to call me babe,” she said in a hush, yet angry, voice. 

“Claire, come on, I never see Carrie. I get to see my daughter,” Nate shrugged, a cocky smile on his face. He would always give her that smile when he wanted his way - and god, it worked so many times before, Claire just didn’t know if she could handle it.

“Are you going to leave again?” she said, crossing her arms. She waited and Nate licked at his lip, rolling his eyes as he put his hands on his hips. “No, I don’t want some story, I want to know if you’re going to leave?” she asked, waiting with a stern expression. 

“I have a job, Claire,” he sighed. 

“Then get out of here,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Where is this coming from?” he asked, brow narrowed. 

“Nate, I love you. I will never not be in love with you, but you will disappoint my daughter when you do eventually disappear again,” she said, tired and exhausted of feeling disappointed in a man she loved with everything she had. 

“She’s my daughter too, Claire,” Nate protested.

“Then why can’t you act like it!” Claire yelled. 

“Everything okay here, Claire?” a voice said over her shoulder. Turning back, she saw Owen, a look of concern gracing his face. Claire put a hand on his chest, urging him off for a little. 

“Fine, can you give me a minute?” she asked. Owen looked at Nate before nodding to Claire. Claire took a beat before turning back to Nate. “Find the house, wait there. We’ll have dinner. But not now. I can’t stand to look at you right now,” she ordered. Nate huffed.

“See you, Claire,” he said, putting his helmet back on and rode off again. Claire let a shaken breath.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Owen asked, his hand on her arm. 

“If I could strangle him if I would,” Claire grunted. Then, she groaned, resting her head on his shoulder. “No I wouldn’t.”

“Who was that?” he asked. Claire sat down on the edge of the gutter. Owen sat down beside her. 

“Nate,” she sighed. “Carrie’s dad.” 

“Oh,” he murmured.  “Are you alright?” he asked. 

“I hate it when he comes round. Things always fall apart,” Claire groaned. Owen chuckled. 

“I’m always here to help put things back together, don’t worry,” he said and Claire scoffed, knowing that, in the end, he was right. She sighed, grabbing at Owen’s hand and looked at him with wide eyes.

“Okay, tattoo,” she beamed and Owen rolled his eyes.

“This again?” he groaned. 

“Yes! Show me tattoo!” she said, bouncing a little as she waited. Owen rolled up his sleeve, showing his forearm. 

“Here,” he said. Under clingwrap, the detailed drawing of a howling wolf stood, looking majestic and soulful. 

“Oh, pretty,” Claire battered her eyelashes playfully. Owen chuckled, rolling down his sleeve again. 

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” he said, standing and helping Claire up from the ground. 

“It’s so pretty, Owen. Let me fawn over your arms again,” she said, trying to pull at his sleeve before he pulled away and hurried off down the street. 

“No coffee for you,” he called out. Claire gasped and chased after him.

“Okay, that’s just mean!”

 

*~*~*

 

Nate stayed for a little over a week. Claire put aside her anger - aside the idea that he may hurt Carrie again. She knew, for her daughter’s sake, get on with Nate throughout the rest of his stay. Claire and Nate managed to get on exactly how they used to, smiling and teasing - remembering all the things they used to do and it felt natural. It always felt natural and amazing and they were always happy. Claire liked feeling happy. 

Carrie had never been happier to have Nate around. He was the great dad Claire always wanted him to be, but he wasn’t around (a complicated matter in itself) and he didn’t visit. Claire liked seeing Carrie happy with her dad, the way he bought her things that she enjoyed without her asking for it because he knew she’d like it. It was different and odd, but it felt like it was the beginning of a family they could have had - given that timing was their friend. 

Claire put the food on the kitchen table, turning to see Nate leaning against the wall. “Where’s Carrie?” he asked, glancing around into Carrie’s bedroom. Claire cleaned up the table a little before she leaned against it.

“Studying with a friend,” she shrugged. And then there was a look, a single look that made Claire’s chest feel light and had her biting at her lip. He was older than he was at sixteen, and god did the years treat him kindly. More than kindly, they made him sexy and mouthwatering. Before Claire could say another word, Nate pushed Claire against the table, his weight leaning into her and his mouth capturing hers like it always did. 

It was a rush of energy, a lust that they had been keeping at bay for Carrie’s sake - but they didn’t now, they gave in and they were far more experienced now. Claire never expected that she could love Nate more, love that he was in her bed against after all these years. It was all lining up, the way Claire had always wanted. When they lay in her bed, bare and sweat beading on their skin, she turned to Nate, smiling at him - the beauty she had missed. 

“Hey,” Nate said, combing the hair out of Claire’s face. 

“That just happened,” she breathed out, a small giggle following her words.

“Yeah, it did,” Nate remarked, kissing Claire’s lips. Nate found his jeans, his phone had been vibrating for a while. He tossed his phone to her as he started to search the floor. “I have a few messages, can you just play them on loudspeaker so I can get dressed,” he asked and Claire nodded. She played the first and most recent message on loud speaker.

_ “Hey babe, just wondering when you’re getting back. I know you were visiting your daughter, but I miss you and want you -”  _

A beautiful woman spoke on the message, only cut short by Nate leaning over and silencing the phone. He zipped up his pants as Claire remained stunned in her bed. “Claire,” Nate sighed and Claire threw his phone at him. 

“You son of a bitch,” she cursed, jumping up and pulling her dress back over her head. Searching the floor for her underwear and bra, she pushed past Nate to get to them. 

“Claire, come on, don’t do this!” Nate said. Claire pushed hard against Nate’s chest wanting to scream and shout and punch her way through his body. She felt sick and battered, a betrayal that struck her so deep, she wasn’t sure how she was even standing. 

“For the love of god, get dressed and don’t you dare think I’m okay with any of this!” she shouted, rushing down the stairs. As Claire came down, she was shocked to see Carrie standing on the front porch with Luke. He was handing Carrie a book, a red streak running over her cheeks and their bodies unnaturally close. Then, Carrie glanced inside and stepped back from Luke. It took a few moments before Carrie came inside and waved Luke off. 

There was a silence. Claire tucked stray hairs behind her ear, watching as her daughter hid her face from her, the guilt of what had happened was radiating off of her. Claire swallowed hard before she crossed her arms and stood near Carrie. “So, what’s going on with you and Luke?”  she asked and Carried shot around, her brow narrowed defiantly. 

“Nothing,” Carrie defended. 

“It just seems like you two are flirting,” Claire tried to explain but it seemed to aggravate Carrie. “Are you still with Dawson?” Claire asked simply. 

“Yes, but he hasn’t talked to me in a while,” Carrie confessed, scratching at the back of her neck.

“Maybe you should,” Claire said calmly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Carrie retorted sharply.

“Honey, you can’t lead him on when you might like another boy,” Claire suggested. Carrie didn’t quite take it well. Claire had never seen Carrie get this upset with her before, as though Claire had wounded her. 

“I don’t know what I’m feeling, Mom. God, just leave me alone,” Carrie shouted.

“Honey,” Claire said softly, knocking at the door. There was no reply. 

“What’s going on?” Nate said over Claire’s shoulder. Claire rolled her eyes before moving past him and staying out of earshot of Carrie. 

“Not now, Nate,” she said. They walked into the lounge room, staying far apart and Claire remaining angry and hurt. 

“Come on, I just want to talk to you,” Nate tried to step forward but Claire broke, her chest feeling so tight as though the pressure was going to shatter her sternum. 

“Don’t you get it! Talking to you hurts! Talking to you really hurts! Standing here right now is killing me!” she yelled, the hot sting building at the edges of her eyes. 

“We can sort this out!” Nate tried but Claire shook her head. 

“No, we can’t! You decided that the moment you had a girlfriend waiting for you,” she said, lip quivering and jaw shaking as she shut her mouth. 

“Claire, listen to me!” he argued. 

“Nate, I always do! You need to sort out what you’re doing before you and I ever could happen,” she shouted. The tears slipping down her cheeks. Hiding her face, she wiped the tears away and sniffling sharply, folding her arms. “So what’s it going to be?” 

“Lisa is waiting back at home,” Nate sighed, not looking at Claire.

“You’ve made your decision already,” she shrugged, not expecting anything but disappointment once more.

“We have a life,” he replied and Claire scoffed.

“We  _ could _ have had one.” 

“I can -” 

Claire interrupted. “No. I’m not going to let you break that woman’s heart because you want to make it work with me. If you break up because of whatever reasons you do, then maybe...but right now, we’re not going to happen.” Breathing in shallow breaths, Claire moved up the stairs to her bed, curling up and wishing she hadn’t tainted this. But she always did. 

The next morning, Claire came downstairs to see all of Nate’s things packed and by the door. He was in the kitchen, making the girls breakfast - silence radiating and confronting. Claire sat opposite her daughter, less so mad at Claire - more so worried about the tension between her parents, Claire knew that much. Then, Nate announced he was going and Carried was on the verge of tears, her sweet shell of a life tainted by her devastating father. 

Carrie stood by Claire’s side, watching as Nate packed his bike, fitting his duffle bag on the back and securing it tightly. Once he finished, he opened his arms and Carrie ran hard into him. She held him tightly and barely let him get a breath him. Carrie, with all the love in her, didn’t want her father to leave and Claire stopped looking for some time. She felt responsible for it, but again, it was always going to be Nate disappointing them. 

“I do have to leave,” Nate laughed as Carrie still remained hugging him. Carrie, letting him go sighed, gutted by their goodbye. She went back to Claire’s side, her eyes sad and doe-like. Claire hated those eyes - those big, sad eyes. 

“But dad,” Carrie protested. Claire kissed Carrie’s temple. 

“Honey,” Claire hummed. 

“Are you making him leave?” she asked sharply and Claire sighed.

“No, sweetie,” she said simply. 

“Carrie, I was always going to go,” Nate shrugged. 

“But you and Mom!” 

“We’ve never been good with timing,” Claire said softly, trying to smile but not quite gaining the strength to do it. “Say goodbye.” Carrie went back into her father’s grasp, holding him - a hold Claire knew Carrie used to remember things, remember moments. 

“See ya, dad,” Carrie said, hugging her father. He kissed her temple and smiled down at her. 

“Bye Claire,” Nate nodded, placing his helmet on.

“Nate,” Claire said, her jaw tightening. As Nate rode off, Claire huffed and walked back to the house with Carrie under her arm. 

“I’m sorry about last night, Mom,” Carrie apologised and Claire kissed the crown of Carrie’s head. “I heard,” she said. Claire stilled then clicked her tongue.

“I know you did. You’re my daughter, after all,” she smiled to Carrie, who laughed. Claire felt better again - the small act of her child’s laughter, even after all these years, made everything worth it. 

A month after Nate, Claire was recovered, her heart a little fragile, but she was doing better. She focused on work, which was going well, and made sure Carrie was going well at school. Carrie seemed to enjoy it and had been having a nice time in Luke’s company. Claire didn’t exactly approve - but he was nice to Carrie and that was what mattered, right? Dawson was in Chicago visiting family, so he didn’t have a say on any of it and it worried Claire a little. But she trusted Carrie. She had to. 

“I’m hanging out with Luke tonight, I’m helping him study,” Carrie said that afternoon, gathering her books together. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Claire said cheerfully. Then, as her daughter looked at her with a questioning look, Claire realised her error. “Bad choice of words,” she mumbled and Carrie laughed. 

“I’ll be good, I promise,” she said, kissing her mother’s cheek and rushing out the door to meet Luke. 

Night rolled in and Claire was enjoying her night. She was watching TV, the Chinese food hot and the trashy shows on repeat. Claire was in her element, wrapped in blankets and having a moment to relax. As she indulged in a pint of cookie dough ben and jerry’s, she tried to remember the last time she was able to have a night to herself. Yet, in this house, she never had a night to herself; it was always her and Carrie. She wasn't allowed to have a ‘me’ anymore, it was always going to be a ‘we’. Claire never regretted that. 

Claire's phone started to blare and she picked it up when she saw Carrie’s little picture light up. She smiled, thinking that Carrie wanted a lift home. “Mom, don’t get mad,” Carrie said the moment Claire answered. 

“What? Why would I be mad?” Claire asked. There was a delay before Carrie replied.

“I got into an accident.” 

“You what?” 

“Luke and I were driving after getting ice cream and there was a cat or something, and we swerved and -” 

“Carrie, where are you?” Claire said, her heart racing hard and fast. 

“I’m in the hospital,” Carrie said in a quiet voice and Claire felt herself grip hard into the wall beside her. Claire rushed to the hospital, arguing and sternly talking to nurses to get to see Carrie. When Carrie was waiting for her next few x-rays, Claire felt nothing but anger - hatred coursing through her like no anger had ever gone through her before. Knowing that it was going to take a little more time, Claire excused herself and drove back to Brooke’s Comet - fast. 

Walking up the steps, Claire barged into Owen’s diner, shocking him as he was still cleaning up the countertop. Claire started to search the entire time, going into the kitchen and storeroom against all of Owen’s wishes. 

“Where is he?” Claire said sternly, her fists bound so tightly, she felt like she was digging her nails permanently into her palm.

“Where’s who?” Owen asked. 

“Luke!” Claire shouted back.

“What happened?” Owen said, gripping hard into Claire’s shoulders to still her. Claire shook him off, pushing past him and walking out onto the street.

“Luke happened! He got Carrie into an accident and she’s at the hospital with a broken wrist and I need to kill him,” Claire said, gritting her teeth as she searched the darkened streets for the little bastard that did this to Carrie. 

“What happened to Luke though?” Owen asked as he walked behind her. Claire turned on her heels, her chest feeling like it was crumbling under the weight of everything. 

“I don’t know and that’s why I’m here to kill him!” she said before Owen’s brow crinkled and he walked ahead of Claire. She scoffed as he walked away, but he wasn’t getting away that easily. 

 

*****

 

Owen had never felt so much panic in his entire life. Maybe once when he was sixteen and  thought his dad was going to find out about the girl in his bed - but it was only briefly. (Turns out, his dad knew the entire time she was there). Owen walked hard, looking down side streets and wondering where the hell this kid could have gone. Then, there was a hard shove against the back of his shoulder. 

“This is your fault, you know that! You brought him here! He didn’t want to be here in the first place and you brought him here!” Claire shouted, her voice harsh and rude and Owen hated all of this. Owen turned sharply on his heels and Claire stopped, raising her chin to seem fierce. He didn’t want this to happen, but it was going to happen. 

“You know I care about Carrie more than myself! So hey, Blame the kid! But he wasn’t in the emergency room with Carrie and now I have to go find him!” 

“What?” Claire exclaimed. 

“Luke is somewhere, I don’t know where. He lives under my roof and I’m scared okay!” he told her. She seemed to scoff at the thought of it. 

“Find him and never speak to me again!” she yelled in his face. 

“You got it!” he yelled back. There was a moment, they just stared at each other - knowing full well this was it and this was where their friendship broke apart. Owen huffed before marching off to the only place he could think of going. The lake. Luke said he liked being alone there, just to get away from the town. 

Owen walked along the bridge, finding Luke sitting on the edge, a cigarette lit between his teeth. Smoke rose before he took it out from between his teeth and looked up at Owen. Sitting down beside Luke, Owen saw everything and almost gasped. The once unmarked face was covered in cuts, bruises starting to form over his neck and some showing on his hands. He had taken the brunt of Carrie’s injuries by protecting her with his own body. Owen knew he had to take Luke to the hospital, but at Luke's pace. 

“I made sure she was okay,” Luke said, the tears slipping down his cheeks and the small sniffle of exhaustion and blame. 

“I know you did,” Owen said, tucking his arm over Luke’s shoulders. 

“Am I…” he started, flicking the cigarette into the lake. “Are you going to ship me off somewhere?” Luke asked. Owen shook his head, holding onto Luke; the kid had been through enough, and all Owen could do for him was to like his own. 

“No. You’re my kid, and you’re staying with me,” he said. Owen knew what this would do. This would put everything on hold for him and Claire - even if there was him and Claire. He wasn't mad at her, he never really could be, but she was sure as hell going to be pissed at him. And what an adventure that would be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Added bonus, here are the faces of the new [characters](http://wonderrbat.tumblr.com/post/147529207348/the-dearing-girls-friends-and-loved-ones-claire) and i really adore them, so if you like them, that's cool. Remember to give feedback if you want more. Please please please! Thank you for reading!  
> Btw - it was 4am when I posted this, there are mistakes everywhere probably. sorry. xx


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